


You Really Do Remind Me of Someone I Know

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Please Forgive me, Wolf!Derek, kind of, might be canon divergence but like barely, please give feedback it's my first time writing in years aaaaahhh, there's no sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4860017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It started out logically enough, Stiles thinks. You find a dog passed out under your Jeep in the uncharacteristically heavy rain, you bring it inside, right? Right?"</p><p>tumblr request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Really Do Remind Me of Someone I Know

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing in literal years, so please bare with me. I also didn’t have a beta, so please forgive any spelling mistakes or awkwardly written parts. Please leave a comment if you have time!!

**deaton, we have a problem. don’t freak out but i think there’s a wolf in my room. the regular kind.**

Stiles hits send and waits anxiously for a reply. What feels like hours tick by, but Stiles takes another peek at his phone and realizes it’s only been 15 minutes. The dog is still passed out on the floor and,  _shit_ , Stiles really thinks it’s a fucking wolf now.

It started out logically enough, Stiles thinks. You find a dog passed out under your Jeep in the uncharacteristically heavy rain, you bring it inside, right? Right?

**Stiles, there are no “regular wolves” in Beacon Hills.**

Stiles grunts. He knows there aren’t. Or there aren’t supposed to be, but this one sure isn’t trying to rip his throat out or morphing into a human. He takes a picture on his cell phone, trying to get a good angle of the wolf’s head and paws, flopped pathetically onto the floor. The poor thing was out cold.

**well, here’s a regular wolf, passed out in my bedroom. i’d rather not have to deal with it when it wakes up!**

Stiles attaches the picture and hits send with some sense of in-your-face urgency. He mentally slaps himself for not recognizing it as a god damn  _wolf_  at first.

Next thing he knows his phone is ringing. Thankfully it’s on vibrate, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t ignore it at lightening speed. He’s not taking any chances with waking this thing up. If it _is_  a werewolf then who knows what it might want with him.

**why are you trying to call me, deaton! i’m not talking on the phone with a fricken wild animal eight feet away from me!**

It’s not exactly calming having a probably dangerous animal in your house, especially not one as close as this. Stiles feels his face being to dampen with sweat. He better get some help in this situation fast, like before-he-has-a-panic-attack fast, or like  _before-his-dad-gets-home_ fast.

**Stay there. I’ll be over ASAP. _Don’t_ wake it up.**

‘ _Like I’m going to fucking try to wake it up, Deaton._ ’

Stiles tries to relax, letting out the quietest sigh of relief he can manage.

—————-

“Well, it’s definitely a wolf.” Deaton says, keeping his eyes on the road.

Stiles rolls his eyes, ‘ _Yeah, I know._ ’ he thinks, staring out the passenger side window. He cranes his neck up and tries to peek through the rear-view mirror into the back of the vet van, but he can’t get a view of the wolf. It’s only been a couple of hours, and the thing’s been out cold the entire time, but Stiles feels fond of the wolf. He hopes it turns out alright.

—————- 

“So, it’s okay?” Stiles asks, bending down and resting his chin on his crossed forearms on the vet table.

Deaton gives him a weary glace when he notices how close he’s putting his  _very human_  face to the wolf’s.

“Basically. He’s got no wounds and there’s no internal bleeding, but he’s dehydrated and malnourished. It looks like he’s been wandering for a long while, but he should make a full recovery.”

Stiles sighs. ‘ _Hell yeah_ ’ he thinks.

“Can I come back and check on it tomorrow?” Stiles asks, his voice raising slightly with hope.

“I don’t see why not, but remember, he’s a wolf and wont exactly be jumping up to see you.” Deaton says, removing his gloves and crossing his arms thoughtfully.

—————- 

The Jeep squeals to a squeaky-braked stop. Stiles makes a mental note to deal with that later, but his mind is racing too fast to really care about that right now. Right now, Stiles just wants to check on the wolf that Deaton’s been watching over all night.

“He’s awake, but he’s weak. Make sure not to get too close.” Deaton says before Stiles can even greet him.

Stiles holds up his hands defensively as he walks to the back of the office.

“Hey, hey, I’m not gonna like jump in there and give it a scratch behind the ears or something.”

Deaton follows Stiles and unlocks the door, pushing it open to reveal a room of cages, mostly empty. In the very back corner, in one of the large cages that stretches from the floor to the ceiling, Stiles spots a softly heaving black lump. It’s breathing is much stronger than it was yesterday. His heart flutters with hope for the wolf.

The vet stands back as Stiles crouches near the wolf’s cage.

“ _Hey, buddy_.” Stiles whispers to the wolf.

It’s eye’s flutter open weakly, pupils dilating in attempt to focus. Before it can fully open it’s eyes it appears to be asleep again. Poor thing has to be really weak still.

“For the amount of “wolves” you’ve encountered at this point, I’m surprised you’re taking time out to check on this one. You know it’s not a sweet little dog, right?” Deaton says suspiciously.

Stiles chuckles a bit.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” He says, hunkering down a bit more to get a closer look at the canine.

“I like this one. I think he’s good.”

—————- 

On the second visit Stiles makes to the wolf’s cage, he finds it in a drastically different position. It must have been awake and strong enough to move across it’s cage. It’s pressed up against one of the front-most corners of the cage now, thick fur sticking out of the chain links in dark tufts.

“He’s getting stronger every day now.” Deaton says, assuming his position of arms-crossed, halfway down the hall of cages, watching Stiles carefully.

Stiles beams as he crouches down in front of the cage for the second time now. He supposes there’s no way of knowing yet if this wolf’s not a murderous supernatural being, but he just has a sense it’s not.

“I’ve got a cat to tend to, so I’m leaving you in here for a bit, but I’m trusting you not to bother the wolf, Stiles.” Deaton says, shifting his position.

“I can’t believe you’d expect any less from me!” Stiles says, falling back from his heels to his butt and waving a hand dismissively.

After Deaton’s finally out of the room Stiles scoots closer to the cage. ‘ _Touching isn’t bothering, right?_ ’ Stiles thinks as his hand finds it’s way to the wolf’s black fur.

It’s softer than he expects and he sinks his fingers gently but deeply into it. He feels peaceful making contact with it. It’s comfortable for him.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees the wolf snap awake. The wolf’s body jolts only slightly, but it’s eyes are wide. Blue. Do black wolves have blue eyes like that normally?

“ _Hey, dude_.” Stiles whispers, for some reason not feeling the need to remove his hand from the wild animal’s pelt.

The wolf huffs through it’s nostrils and lowers it’s ears, eyes flicking away.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you.”

The wolf huffs again, it’s eyes flicking back to him, pupils narrowing. If Stiles didn’t know better, and he doesn’t, he’d say this wolf is annoyed. He wonders for a moment if it might turn aggressive, but the wires in his brain aren’t connecting (or maybe he just has a hunch) and he keeps his hand steady still.

“Hey, you better not be mean to me, wolf, you’re the one who crawled under my car. I took you in out of the kindness of my heart. Good thing you’re cute or I might not like you so much.” Stiles wiggles his hand in the wolf’s fur absentmindedly.

The wolf sighs and closes it’s eyes again. Stiles stays until he feels it’s breathing rate go down from “irritated wolf” to “sleeping doggy.”

“Seeya tomorrow, sourwolf.” Stiles says quietly as he stands up.

He laughs to himself. The wolf kind of did remind him of Derek.

—————-

“Back again, wolfy!” Stiles says, barging past Deaton who has only barely unlocked the door and turned the knob.

This time the wolf wakes up as soon as he enters the room.

“Glad to see you’re feeling a little better.” Stiles says.

Deaton rolls his eyes and leaves the room, this time leaving the door open in case he needs to come running back in. He doesn’t put it past Stiles to get his arm gnawed off by an irritated wolf.

Stiles plops down in front of the wolf and watches as it slowly and weakly sits up. He nearly giggles to himself as a sense of fondness for the wolf floods his heart. It’s only been a few days, but he’s so proud of the progress it’s making. Stiles reaches out and puts his hand against the cage.

“Deaton was right, you’re getting better every day.” Stiles says, squinting his eyes with a smile.

The wolf sticks it’s neck out, twitching nose honing in on Stiles’ hand. To Stiles’ surprise the wolf shakes it’s head a bit, and he swears the wolf looks like it wants to sneeze.

“Hey, I don’t smell _that_ bad, dude.”

The wolf cranks it’s head back and shakes a bit more before fixing it’s bright eyes on Stiles. The wolf lets out a low whine before flapping a clumsy and tired paw on the ground in front of it. Stiles thinks he’s seen videos of dogs begging for treats or attention this way, and the way the wolf looks at him makes him feel like it’s just a pet dog seeing him after a long day at school.

“What’s your deal?” Stiles says inquisitively, leaning in as his hand falls from the cage.

Suddenly, the wolf has that somehow-annoyed look on it’s face again and Stiles studies it closely, looking back and forth between it’s eyes, and it looks like the wolf is doing the same. This only goes on for so long before the wolf lets out a huff and lowers itself to the ground slowly. The wolf’s paws are outstretched, nearly peeking out from the bottom of the cage door. Stiles finds himself reaching out and resting his fingers on one of the wolf’s paws.

“You’re gonna be okay, buddy.”

—————- 

“You know, Stiles, I could just give you a call when he’s all better.” Deaton says, opening the door for Stiles.

“I know that, I just like checking up on him. We’re buddies now!” Stiles says, striding over to the far cage.

The wolf is sitting and alert this time, as if it’d been expecting Stiles. He kneels in front of the cage and waves at it. Do wolves know what a wave means?

“Don’t stay in here too long or you’ll drive the poor guy crazy.” Deaton says as he turns and walks out, closing the door this time.

“You’re looking good as new, sourwolf!” Stiles beams at the wolf.

The wolf tilts it’s head for a split second before flicking it’s ears back, releasing a gentle growl.

“You really do remind me of someone I know.” Stiles says, a slight laugh in his voice.

The wolf grunts and bats at the ground again.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere until you’re ready to get out of here. Deaton may seem like a lame jerk, but he’s a good vet.”

—————- 

“Stiles, I’m trusting you to lock up here when you’re done.” Deaton says, handing Stiles a set of spare keys.

“Hey, I’m trustworthy! Super trustworthy! My dad’s a cop, it’s in my genes.” Stiles says, gleefully snatching the keys from Deaton.

After Deaton’s left the building, Stiles strolls back into the back room, hands in his pockets, almost like he’s trying to be casual.

“I’m pulling a late night to keep an eye on you, wolfy.” He says bending forward and peering down at the wolf.

The wolf gives him a suspicious look, blue eyes so intense they make Stiles a little uncomfortable.

“What? I like you. If you’re not just a regular old wolf, then I’m sure you’re a good guy. You give me nice vibes.” He says, slumping against the wall at the end of the hall and sliding down to sit.

The wolf averts it’s eyes. ‘ _Is this thing embarrassed?_ ’ Stiles thinks.

“What, you’ve never had a wolf-friend who would spend the night with you in the wolf-hospital?” Stiles asks jokingly.

The wolf gives him one of those sourwolf glances that are becoming so familiar before reluctantly (and somehow the wolf really does look reluctant) and slowly padding over to the same wall Stiles is against and leaning against the cage, only inches from Stiles.

Stiles spends some time that night telling the wolf secrets and mundane stories from his week, and he thinks this is probably much more therapeutic for himself than it is for the wolf, but it seems like the wolf is at peace anyway.

—————- 

“Yeah, he’s kind of a jerk, but I think he’s got a soft side. From what I’ve heard he’s had a pretty messed up life and I honestly feel really bad for him. Losing my mom was hard enough, I can’t imagine losing my whole family.” Stiles says gently, lost in thought, as he stands and fixes himself to leave.

It’s 4am and the wolf looks like it’s fallen asleep a while ago while Stiles was talking, but he kept going anyway. Stile’s always liked it when his mom would keep telling him a bedtime story even after he had drifted off. Maybe the wolf isn’t awake to hear it, but Stiles hopes the bedtime rambling was at least sort of comforting.

“Seeya tomorrow.” Stiles says, opening the door to leave.

The wolf peeks it’s eyes open, just enough to see the boy closing the door behind him.

Stiles walks to his car, thoughts of Derek lingering in his mind.

—————- 

Another late night at the vet clinic, and the wolf is well enough to be pacing around it’s cage now. It looked anxious when Stiles first walked in and he took it upon himself to try to calm the thing down.

It’s 2am and he finds himself having a one-sided discussion about Derek Hale with the wolf again.

“I know the guy’s kind of mean to me, but I wish I saw him more. I mean, we’ve saved each other’s life for God’s sake, that should count toward some sort of friendship.”

Despite his efforts, the wolf seemed almost more nervous than when he showed up.

“I have his number but I’m too nervous to send him a text or anything. It feels kind of like butterflies, but it’s also sort of laced with the danger of a big, buff werewolf.” Stiles muses, only now realizing this himself.

The wolf stops pacing for some reason, glowering at him from across the cage. Stiles feels self conscious suddenly, like he just realized he may have some weird feelings for Derek while simultaneously being mocked by an animal for not having the balls to text someone.

“Oh, don’t act like you know all about texting and human socializing, you’re just a wolf….. probably”

The wolf huffs and resumes it’s pacing.

—————- 

“Stiles.”

Stiles twists his head in his sleep.

“Stiles!”

Suddenly Stiles jolts awake, smacking his head on the concrete wall in the back room of the vets office. The impact forces him to close his eyes and grab his head. How did he fall asleep in a room full of concrete and chain link, even? He must’ve drifted off telling the wolf some more embarrassing shit about the guy he may or may not have a little crush on.

And that’s when Stiles realizes it’s the man himself’s voice calling out his name. His eyes shoot open and he twists around to see none other than Derek-goddamn-Hale standing over him.

“Oh shit!” Stiles yelps, rolling over and out of the way, as if Derek’s going to stomp on him like an insect or something.

“Derek? What the hell, man?” Stiles says, covering his tired eyes from the light now beaming into his face from the ceiling as he looks up at the older man.

Before Stiles can really grasps what’s going on he’s being hauled up, partially by his shirt and partially by his scrambling as he’s trying to prevent said shirt from ripping in the werewolf’s hands.

Derek says nothing, but points to a huge, gaping hole in the chain link fence the wolf had been in, obviously torn open by some angry claws.

“Shit,” Stiles says, squinting hard from sleepiness and the pain of knocking his head on the wall.

“did that wolf get out?!” He attempts to look around or move out of Derek’s grasp, but the size of him prevents Stiles from doing either.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Stiles?” Derek looks mad as hell (though Derek being mad as hell isn’t exactly new to Stiles in any way).

And so after a generous moment Stiles realized just exactly what happened. There’s another long moment as his eyes widen and lips tighten.

“Oh, fuck.” Stiles covers his mouth in some expression of surprise and embarrassment.

“Yeah.” Derek jostles Stiles roughly, knocking him against the wall a bit.

“You kept me in a cage for  _days_ , Stiles.  _Days_.” Derek sounds pretty damn upset.

“How was I supposed to know it was you?!”

“You told me I reminded you of  _me_!” Derek shouts, giving him another shake.

And that’s when Stiles realizes that he probably talked about Derek a little too much to the wolf who ended up  _being_ Derek. He clenches his eyes shut.

“Oh my god. You understood all the weird shit I said about you, didn’t you.”

“Yep.” Derek lets go of his shirt then, but retains his blank scowl.

“That’s. Derek, that’s fucking excruciatingly embarrassing for me.” Stiles opens one clenched eye, peeking at the werewolf while running a hand through his hair.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it was you, I really am, I can’t believe how much of a dumbass I am, I must have been the worst person to come crawling to. Shit. I can’t believe I said all of that about you-”

“Stiles,” Derek cuts off the younger boy’s ramblings.

Derek’s expression softens then, his shoulders lowering a bit and his fists loosening some, but his brow retaining a furrow.

“No, don’t- don’t be embarrassed,” Derek says, now seeming like he’s the embarrassed one.

“I didn’t really know who I was or who you were the first few days, but you helped me remember. I was stuck like that, stuck as a wolf. It was really, really confusing and… awful. So, uh, thanks. A lot. I think I came crawling to the right person…”

Derek averts his gaze, taking his own turn at nervously running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sorry you got trapped in a cage in Deaton’s vet clinic. I didn’t know where else to take you and….” Stiles trails off.

Derek shoves his hands in his pockets, still not looking at Stiles.

“Where? Uh, where did you find me? What was I doing? I don’t really remember a whole lot.” The awkwardness of the situation cuts through Derek’s curiosity like a sharp knife.

“Well, you crawled your little wolf ass under my Jeep. It had been raining and it looks like you passed out their trying to stay out of it.” Stiles subconsciously emulated Derek’s body language, hands in pockets, eyes wandering elsewhere.

Derek thinks he probably knew it was Stiles Jeep, though he can’t remember any of it exactly. To be honest, if he was going to crawl to anyone for help it’d probably be Stilinski, though he wouldn’t be honest if you asked.

“Well, yeah. Thanks. Like I said, I think I went to the right person.”

There was a long pause before either of them said anything.

“Well. Let me give you a ride home? Or something? You should probably text Deaton and let him know that, uh… you know.” Stiles bites the inside of his lip.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I will. A ride would be cool.” Derek says.

‘ _”A ride would be cool,” what a dumbass_ ’ Derek mocks himself in his head.

“Yeah, cool. Uh. Let’s go, then… I guess.” Stiles looks around. There’s not much they can do about the broken cage so he figures it’s best to just get going.

—————- 

The silence in the car sits fine with Derek, as he realized that he’s still sort of tired and weak from the whole ordeal, ‘ _whatever happened._ ’ On the other hand, Stiles was finding it extremely painful. Does he mention all the embarrassing things he said about Derek? Does he need to? Stiles has a hunch Derek has some sort of wolfy-sense that told him that Stiles has a bit of a crush on him.

‘ _Ah, shit_ ,’ Stiles thinks, mentally admitting just what those feelings are.

‘ _I like this asshole._ ”

“Don’t be embarrassed about all that stuff you said, okay?” Derek grunts, resting his head in his hand.

Stiles ears turn hot and he feels his cheeks flush. Derek can probably sense his embarrassment and nervousness.

“Well, that’s a little hard to do.” Stiles says, squinting an eye like he’s getting a painful shot in the ass.

“If it means anything, I wish I saw you around more, too.” Derek closes his eyes, the embarrassment he feels is almost exhausting.

Stiles eyes widen and his lips purse. He’s honestly surprised. Their exchanges are usually non-aggressive at best now, but they’ve never really been friendly.

“Oh, uh… cool. Yeah.” Stiles wonders how many awkward ‘yeah’s have been uttered that night.

—————- 

It’s three days later when Stiles gets a text.

**Coffee?**

Stiles takes a good ten minutes to reply because he’s blushing and rolling around on his bed and trying not to puke up his lunch.

**can’t drink coffee, gets me too excited.**

A few painful minutes go by.

**Oh. Ok. Sorry.**

Stiles realizes it sounds like he’s just rejected Derek but that’s literally the last thing he wants to do.

**come over?**

Suddenly Stiles is aware that he’s sweating and jiggling his leg off the side of the bed nervously. That may have been the bravest thing he’s ever done, sending that text. Sure, he’s approached Lydia tons of times, and she had even usually rejected or ignored him, but it felt so wildly different with Derek.

**10 minutes.**

And so Stiles is counting down until Derek arrives, his nerves and excitement nearly bursting out of him.

—————- 

Eleven minutes later and there’s a knock on Stiles’ bedroom window. He purposefully waited facing away from it because he was way too nervous to watch Derek magically appear.

With some great urgency, Stiles fumbles over to his window, suddenly feeling like he hadn’t fidgeted with his hair or clothes enough, though he knows he definitely has.

“Hey!” Stiles tries to act casual and excited, and not nervous and excited.

“Hey.” Derek enters the room without making eye contact.

Stiles doesn’t want that awkward standing-around-waiting thing to happen, so he pipes up.

“Want a drink or something? Soda? Coffee? We have a Keurig so I can brew you a cup real quick, if you’re still hankering for some.” Stiles internally cringes. ‘ _Hankering_.’

“I didn’t really want to get coffee, Stiles.”

Stiles is confused for a second before it sets in that Derek meant that it wasn’t that he wanted to go to coffee specifically, but just that he wanted to see Stiles.

His mouth and brain aren’t connecting properly, so Stiles doesn’t reply. He sits on the bed as coolly as possible and looks up at Derek, hoping to signal to him that it’s alright to sit on the bed with him.

Derek doesn’t really get the signal, but he responds to Stiles’ look anyway.

“It was hard to text you today.” He admits

“How did you put it? Kind of like butterflies?” Stiles swears Derek is being bashful, and it’s so foreign and endearing that he actually smiles.

‘ _Exactly like butterflies._ ’ Stiles thinks, but they both know it anyway.

—————- 

Hours later and Stiles finds himself lying across his bed, the werewolf reclining comfortably against his headboard. They’re a foot or two away from each other but to Stiles it feels like they’re nearly touching.

Thankfully, their conversation had evolved and they ended up talking about regular stuff. At first it was scary for Stiles, he didn’t really know if anything  _regular_  ever happened to Derek Hale. But lo and behold, here they are, talking about their childhood memories and favorite movies and mediocre camping trips.

“So basically, I left a piece of bologna outside the tent in hopes that the mountain lion would wander in and that I could catch a glimpse or something of it, or even just hear it rustling around. I don’t really know what I thought would happen, I mean I was only 6.” Stiles stares at his ceiling, remembering how his mom had pieced together that he was trying to attract the mountain lion the park ranger had warned them about earlier that day.

Derek chuckled a bit and shook his head.

“We never really worried about wild animals. Smelling like a big pack of wolves really deters anything that might wander by.” Derek says shifting lower against the headboard.

Stiles stomach feels fuzzy and warm as he imagines the Hale family all camping together.

“Do you miss your family sometimes?” Stiles asks.

“You always seem so angry about it. I just wonder if you’ve ever let yourself, I don’t know, grieve?” Stiles feels like he might be crossing a line, but hopes that Derek knows that he really did mean what he said about feeling empathy for him.

“Every day.” Derek says, casting a glance out the window.

“It wasn’t easy being a Hale, but I loved my family. I would do anything I could to get them back.”

Stiles stays silent, knowing Derek can sense the sorrow they share at that moment. He sits up, scooting a little closer to Derek.

“You’re still a Hale, you know. All that is real, and it’s a part of you still, even if they’re gone.” Stiles looks earnestly at him.

Derek turns his head with a serious look on his face. Contemplative, maybe sad. Stiles is seeing so many new sides of Derek he thinks he might be imagining it all.

“I have to remind myself that about my mom. Sometimes, it feels like I never had one, but then I remember everything she taught me. She’s gone now but she _was_  here for a while.”

Derek leans closer to Stiles without really noticing.

—————- 

It’s two months later and Derek and Stiles have hung out nearly every week. Scott’s been back from vacation for a long time and told Stiles all about it, Deaton’s repaired the cage and given an awkward semblance of an apology for not figuring out that wolf was Derek all along, and Stiles feels like he’s floating on air. It’s only a week before school gets in, but Stiles is guessing he’ll keep seeing Derek show up at his window at night anyway.

The sky has darkened and Stiles’ lights are off. The only light is coming from the streetlights outside, and it’s dim. Derek is sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, both of them staring out the window at the faint stars. Their hands are nearly touching, and Stiles wonders if Derek notices.

They had been talking for an hour or two, most of it light hearted, and it felt so good for the both of them.

“I haven’t really had anyone to talk to like this in years.” Derek says, sounding a little ashamed to admit it.

Stiles looks at Derek, brow furrowed with empathy.

“It makes me feel,” Derek pauses, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I don’t know, human? Normal.” He says, his hand falling back onto the bed, this time fingers just barely overlapping Stiles’.

Stiles gnaws at the inside of his lip again, trying to work out the situation like a math problem. He’s talking before he’s gotten to the solution fully.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks suddenly, not even a gentle waver in his voice.

Derek turns his head quickly, their faces matched in an intense focus.

Then, Derek’s leaning in, hand slipping up Stiles’ hand and onto his wrist, pulling them closer together. Their lips touch firmly and briefly. If they had stayed that way any longer than a moment either or both may have collapsed.

Stiles stares at Derek, doe eyes wide, lips parted just barely.

He smiles slowly and smugly.

“ _Nice_.” Stiles stage-whispers.

“Stiles,” Derek looks annoyed again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This request was from hobrienhalinski on tumblr! Probably not what they were expecting at all, heh.
> 
> I’m still taking requests and prompts (don’t expect me to do it just because you request it, though! I’m still just trying to get back into the swing of things). Hit me up on tumblr at verigupi.us or mygoddamnsterekblog.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> -Bunny


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